This Place is Made of Old Velvet and Desire
by o-seastarved
Summary: Picks up right where 5x17 left off. Dan and Blair decide to date properly, but how will they resist temptation when things heat up between them?
1. Chapter 1

_So we have 5 weeks before Dair returns and I just had to take that time to fill in those missing pieces. Picks up right after 5x17 ends and continues from there. This is probably the steamiest thing I've ever written, and there's not even any sex. Yell at me in reviews please or praise me if I pulled it off! As always, I just play with Dan and Blair but I don't own them. - Air_

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><p>It felt like the room was spinning.<p>

And all he could hear was the mewing of his name escaping Blair's lips from in between kisses. He had never heard her use that voice before. It was illuminating; something brand new from this girl he thought he knew so well, and yet she could still manage to surprise him.

But it was also driving him crazy.

His hands slipped from their places—tangled in her hair and snaked around her waist—in order to curl under the shoulders of her coat and peel it back. She let it slide off of her and pool on the floor at her feet and kept kissing him. She didn't even complain at its unceremonious treatment. Instead she wrapped her hands around his neck, the tips of her fingers gliding into the curls at the nape of his neck. He returned his hands to her waist, gripping her intently as he guided her around and began to slowly as ever back peddle her towards the couch.

She whimpered again and it vibrated in his lips and reverberated through his entire body so that he had to pull away in order to take a breath. He inhaled deeply but Blair wasn't to be deterred, she simply began to trail kisses along his jaw and down to his neck. His eyes practically rolled back into his skull. He could have sworn he was dizzy.

Dan pulled her hips closer, flush against his and trailed to the back of her skirt, searching blindly for the zipper. She was practically purring in his ear as she latched on to the lobe and tugged lightly and he could feel her smile against him. He couldn't help but break into a sheepish grin himself.

"Your clothes are like a fortress," he said throatily as he tugged the zipper down.

She caught a slight chuckle in her throat. "Mmm…part of my allure," she said simply in that same sex-kitten-like voice that he was pretty sure would end up being the death of him. She nipped at his Adam's apple as she shimmied out of her skirt and they touched their foreheads together again after she pulled his sweater over his head, leaving him in a simple black t-shirt. He began to find the small, silk covered buttons of her blouse and work them open.

He was taking forever with them. His fingers were too clumsy and thick and all of his nerves were electrified by the ninety-five pound girl of his dreams pressing against him, practically breathless and on her way to becoming half naked in his living room.

His knuckles haphazardly grazed the curve of her left breast as he played with the button in between them and she hummed his name again.

"Dan."

He was glad that she seemed to be on the same page. The bordering on euphoria page, or euphoric desperation page. He was feeling a pull in his body that would not allow him to be any further away from her so in that instant he gave up on the buttons and simply backpedaled her to the couch until the backs of her knees made contact and she reclined lengthwise upon it. He began to crawl atop her and nestled himself in between her legs. Legs that were wearing thin, elastic garters connecting to black silk stockings and Kate Spades. Legs that were connected to simple black silk panties.

He was determined to hear that same word emitted that way over and over again tonight and he knew what he had to do to get it. He left her blouse as it was and began to return the favor by trailing kisses her along her neck. His left arm swung back and his hand found her thigh to explore.

He surged forward in order to reach her lips again and she gasped as the very hard, very present bulge in his pants ground up against her.

That was it. He hoisted himself up, resting his weight on his right elbow and looked down upon her face as his other hand left her thigh and travelled towards her center. Her eyes were hooded but intent at gazing up at him as he slipped two fingers underneath the material.

She sucked in a breath and held it. She was so wet and burning hot and all Dan wanted was to be inside of her. But not yet.

He stroked a finger over her folds until he rested on her clit and applied pressure. She arched her back, her eyes finally sweeping shut and mewed again, soft and high pitched, like how she said his name. He wanted to hear it again. So he pressed on, literally, and hooked his free hand under her neck and braced his thumb along the line of her jaw.

"Say it again," he whispered and stroked once more.

She opened her mouth and was about to emit what was sure to be the single greatest sound his ears could imagine when the door to the loft clicked open.

"Shit," Dan said and yanked his hand out of her underwear and scrambled to sit up. Blair did the same, but was at more of a loss than he, her clothes being scattered all over the floor. Dan practically stumbled onto the floor as he reached for her coat and threw it at her.

"Hello," Rufus' voice rang out as the heavy door swung open.

"What is he doing here?" Blair asked in a hushed, tense whisper as she struggled to pull her coat on. Dan simply widened and bulged his eyes as if to say _fuck if I know _before turning towards the door.

"Dad," he called out and stood up just as Blair was clasping a second button shut.

Rufus finally appeared from behind the door, with Lily following suit, and a porter carrying bags.

Dan took in the sight but wasn't quite able to process it. "Uh what are you—what are you doing here?" he asked.

"Oh, Blair," Rufus said, trying to hide his surprise. "Hi."

Blair smiled tightly and sat up from the couch, smoothing out her hair and trying to muster up some composure.

"Blair," Lily said. Dry, not even attempting to hide her surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Dan looked back at her, mouth in a terrible pout and her eyes wide. She opened her mouth to say God knows what before he whipped back towards the two intruders. "What are you two doing here?" he said and waved a finger between the two of them. "I think that's the real question here."

"Oh, yes. _That,_"Lily sighed in exasperation and threw her scarf over a stool at the kitchen counter. "Tell them, Rufus."

Rufus shrugged. "Cece left the estate to Ivy, which includes the penthouse and she kicked us out. Incidentally, we're going to have to stay here for a while."

"Just until al of this nonsense is sorted out," Lily said with a wave of her hand.

Dan was speechless. He turned back to Blair, who simply raised her eyebrows at him. _Don't look at me_ was the basic message he got from her expression. Fine.

He was at a loss.

"You know what?" Blair piped up sweetly. "I'm gonna go." She smiled a tight lipped, polite smile and brushed passed Dan, only to stop and crouch down to pick up her skirt as inconspicuously as she possibly could off of the floor—which happened to not be inconspicuous at all, but almost comically obvious.

Rufus gave Dan a pointed look and he glared back.

"Blair," Dan called out but she was already scurrying out the door.

"I'll call you!" she called out and was gone in an instant.

Dan could have facepalmed right then and there. He sighed and slapped his hands together and rubbed them back and forth.

"Well, welcome," he said more sarcastically than he wanted to.

Lily gave him a keen look from above her reading glasses.

"Sorry, son," Rufus said. 

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><p>Dan had hardly slept. He'd tossed and turned, and spent a considerable amount of time with his left hand and some lotion, which didn't help calm the rapid-fire speed at which his brain was working. It simply overloaded it. He tossed and turned some more.<p>

He couldn't even write, he was too wired to latch onto a single thought for more than five seconds. By 6:30am he'd dozed off into a restless and not at all satisfying sleep, only to be awakened by the dinging of his phone at 9:30.

It was Blair. _"Come over?" _was all it said.

What did that even mean? He texted her back and swung his feet onto the floor and groggily stumbled towards the shower.

He tapped his foot during the entire cab ride. Along the way he got another text. _"Just come right upstairs." _

Okay…

When he knocked on her bedroom door he was not in a particularly good mood.

The door swung open and he was greeted with a radiant smile. "Hi," she cooed and he couldn't help the corners of his lips from turning up slightly.

Regardless, he cocked his head to the side suspiciously. "Hi," he said with misgiving. Why wasn't she throwing things at him?

She grabbed both of his wrists and proceeded to drag him inside, letting go only to give the door a push shut. He dragged his feet along the carpet and threw his head back as she pulled.

"Oh, someone's a bit rough around the edges today," she said and wrapped her arms around his torso and looked up at him with twinkling eyes.

"Well, after getting caught making out on the couch by my parents like I was in middle school again? I'd say that's a reason to be prickly," he said sourly.

She squeezed her arms tighter around him. "Well _you_ weren't the one caught with your pants down, literally," she practically sing-songed.

A smile escaped him, though he tried not to let it, before he snatched it back and sobered. "Wait a second," he said and furrowed his brow as he looked down upon her. "Why aren't you mortified? Who are you and what have you done with Blair Waldorf?"

She bit her bottom lip coyly and began to pull him towards her bed. His feet weren't dragging anymore.

She whirled him around and released him from her grasp just in time for him to plop down on the side of her bed. She instantly lifted her leg up, then the other and straddled him. She was wearing a silver silk slip with lace trim and his fingers slipped and slid over the material as he settled them lightly at her hips.

"She's right here," she smiled and kissed him lightly. "And she's ready to pick up where we left off last night," she whispered into his lips and smiled again, slyly this time, or so it felt to him.

"Oh, is she?" Dan asked playfully and she nodded. "Mustn't keep a lady waiting, then," he said and she shook her head fervently.

He delved in for another languid but deep kiss and he let it build, stirring their passion awake slowly, letting it creep up through them like the night before. Her hands tucked under his shirt and were ready to pull up when the start of the shower from her bathroom startled them.

Blair broke away and looked in the direction of the sound.

"What is it?" Dan said.

Her face fell. "Serena," she said glumly.

"Oh," he said plainly and threw himself backwards on the bed. His arms flailed out across the duvet.

She was still straddling him and played with the hem of his shirt, her shoulder slumped into a sulk.

"We shouldn't," she said.

He sighed deeply. "I know."

They remained that way for several moments, deflating.

Finally Dan hoisted himself up on both elbows. "Coffee?" 

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><p>She ordered a non-fat latte. He ordered a doppio cappuccino.<p>

"Humphrey what are we going to do?" she asked insistently, neurotic mode kicking in. He was much too haggard to deal with this Blair this early in the morning.

"Blair…" he began but she cut him off.

"We have no sanctuary. No neutral territory. We have no Switzerland do you realize this?" She was on overdrive and talking a mile a minute.

"Look, what if this is good for us?" he said rested his elbows on the small round table and cupped his drink with both hands.

"What are you saying?" her eyes narrowed.

He fixed his stare at her. Now was not the time for suspicion.

"When's the last time you went on a date?" he asked and raised his eyebrows slightly.

She was about to answer immediately but he interrupted. "Galas, events and public outings don't count," he said and she scowled at him.

"What's the point of this, Humphrey?" she asked.

"What I'm saying is…." He began and plastered on a teasing grin. "Will you date me?"

"Why must you joke around at a time like this, I mean really?" Blair said and took a sip of her coffee.

"I'm not joking," he said soberly. "Let's take things slow, do this right. What do you say?"

He could almost see a wave of calm coming over her as she let out a breath and loosened her posture, sinking down to his level in her chair as she contemplated. She smiled shyly. "Well. Who would have thought that chivalry isn't dead," she said and waited a moment. "And living in Brooklyn no less."

He laughed and she brought her cup to her lips again, but her eyes continued to dance with his.

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><p><em>Tell me you love me? :)<em>


	2. Week One

_Wow, you guys are amazing. I want to make out with every one of you who left me a review and told me you loved me! Seriously, thank you! Made my week and gave me incentive to churn this thing out over the hiatus. I'm aiming for a new chapter per week (on Mondays!) if I can! So enjoy, share your thoughts, and enjoy Dan and Blair once again being insanely romantic but then behaving like fifteen year olds fooling around in their parents' basement ;)_

_As always, they aren't mine unfortunately, I'm just borrowing them during the hiatus to make us all happy! _

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><p>"No," Dan said defiantly. "No way."<p>

They were strolling through Central Park after coffee and taking their time returning to Blair's penthouse.

"Why not?" Blair said, not understanding his aversion to her suggestion.

"Because it's emasculating, that's why," he said and dipped his chin into his scarf.

Blair scoffed. "From chivalry to chauvinism in the span of ten minutes. Wow, Humphrey, that's low."

Dan rolled his eyes. "I'm just saying, I should be the one taking you out, not the other way around."

"Well why shouldn't I take you on a date?" she said in a shrill voice and threw up her hands in frustration.

Dan dug the toe of his shoe into the gravel and halted, let her walk ahead of him a few steps before realizing and turning back to him. He gave her a bemused look.

"What?" she asked.

"If you must know, I have the perfect date planned," he said, his shoulders swallowing his neck as his hands were dug deep into his pockets. He was cold, tired, frustrated and sullen. He had no fight in him left.

She softened, he presumed at the sad sight of him, and stalked forward so she was right in front of him. She hesitated, waiting for him to lift his eyes from his shoes and look at her.

"What if I do too?" she said saccharinely, teasingly, curling her tongue against her teeth with a smile.

"You're not going to back down are you?" he asked wearily.

She shook her head happily. "Nope," she said and popped the 'p' off of her lips.

He sighed, lifted his hands out of his pockets to be exposed to the cold and draped them around her waist.

"How about this?" he said and she started to play with the collar of his coat, ready to listen intently. "What have we never done before?" he asked.

"Mmm, I don't know. Lots," she hummed suggestively and ran her hands along his chest.

"Really?" he said. "Mind out of the gutter, Waldorf."

"Fine," she said, drawing out the word on an exhale. "What haven't we done?" She thought for a moment. "We never got to the Degas exhibit at the Morgan. Or MOMA."

"We've never actually been out to dinner," he said.

Her lips curled up approvingly. "I like the simplicity, Humphrey. Well Done."

"Why thank you," he said, inflated with pride. "Now text Nate."

"What? Why?"

"Because he's choosing the restaurant so we don't have to argue over who gets to pick and I can go home and take a nap."

She laughed casually and he kissed her forehead before setting off towards home.

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><p>"Okay, what about this shirt?" Dan asked and came out of his bathroom in a crisp blue and white pinstriped button down.<p>

"Dude, you look like me. No," Nate said after a glance and returned to his Sports Illustrated. His feet were escalated and crossed upon Dan's desk.

Dan grimaced and rushed back in only to return a moment later with a new option. He threw out his arms and sarcastically presented himself, a sardonic grin on his face.

"Purple? Really?" was Nate's only comment. He lifted his pointer finger in the air and spun it around.

Dan raised an eyebrow. He was about to head back in but his phone buzzed on his bed. He stepped forward to pick it up. Blair.

_Can you come over early and help me pick out an outfit? :) _

Dan scoffed.

"What?" Nate asked.

"She uh…" he began to type. "She wants me to come over and help her pick out an outfit."

Nate laughed and kept reading.

Dan hesitated. "I shouldn't, right? I mean I could." He was wavering.

"No!" Nate finally put his reading material down—he'd probably just been looking at the pictures anyway—and swiveled around to face Dan. "Look, man, that shit is for like old marrieds. Established couples. Do you want this to be a real first date or not?"

Dan shrugged. "You're right, you're right." He looked down at his phone and typed, backspaced, typed again. Finally he wrote:

_Not a chance. ;) _

He could practically hear Blair scoff through the type. He threw his phone back on the bed and went to change again.

"And don't even think about flannel," Nate called out to him. "Or checkered. Any pattern at all."

Dan tore the door open in utter annoyance. "There is _literally_ nothing I own that she won't absolutely hate," he said.

"Okay, okay," Nate said and rested his elbows on his knees. "Look, have you ever changed anything about yourself to appease Blair?"

Dan thought for a moment. "No," he said warily.

"Well there you go," Nate said and leaned back in his chair.

"So you're saying I can wear the—"

"No!" Nate practically groaned. His phone rang once in his pocket and he fished it out. Dan returned to his bathroom turned dressing room. "Hey," Nate called out to him.

"Yeah?" Dan called back through the door.

"Blair says to wear your tan button down and dark brown pants. No tie," Nate said.

The door whipped open briskly and Dan leered. "Excuse me?"

"She just texted me asking _me_ to come help her pick out an outfit—by the way she's not pleased you got to me first—and I guess she just decided to take charge of the situation," Nate explained nonchalantly.

Dan sighed and picked up his phone. He had a text from Blair, of course.

_You can send Nate over now. Thanks! ;) _

Dan turned the screen over to Nate. "You know about this?" he asked. Nate simply shrugged and picked up his coat.

"Hey good luck tonight, man. And at least now you know that if she insults your clothes she's actually flirting with you."

Dan couldn't help but bow his head and break into a sheepish grin.

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><p>Dan turned the corner into Blair's foyer as he had countless times before. She must have heard the ding because she was descending down the stairs as he reached the center table.<p>

"Hi," she said primly and with each delicate step towards him his throat seemed to tighten and restrict his access to air.

Her dress was made up of various patterns of fine brown lace with a creamy beige silk lining underneath. Her left shoulder was bare and milky, an asymmetrical neckline ran diagonally along her collarbone and fed into a laced long sleeve along her right arm. Her hair was swept up in a loose but elegant and deliberate up-do and in her hand she grasped a small rectangular brocade clutch. Sheer dark brown stockings ran up her legs and a deep gold shoe dressed her feet. Large citrine studs graced her ears and that was it.

"Wow," Dan finally said after staring, possibly even gawking at the sight of her.

"What?" she asked sheepishly and almost blushed as she approached him, smiling.

"Nothing, it's just…" Dan began and licked his lips as they broke into a grin. "Nate really knows how to dress a girl, I'm impressed."

Blair laughed and swatted him on the arm with her clutch, eliciting a short laugh from him as well before he settled on her with an intent gaze.

"Really, you look beautiful," he said in a low and serious voice. She was practically glowing.

Nate had picked out a brasserie in the West Village, pre-ordered them a bottle of Viognier and settled the bill beforehand.

"Well that was nice," Dan said, holding his menu and rather dazed. "At this point he's our only mutual friend."

Blair was studying her menu intently. "We'll have to discuss sharing custody," she said.

"Custody?" he asked absentmindedly, like it were the most normal thing in the world.

"Mmmhmm," she hummed matter of factly. "I'm impressed. He chose a place elegant enough for me but offbeat enough for you."

"Mmm well don't expect me to order the beef marrow and oxtail marmalade," he said, scouring the selection.

They were holding up their menus, blocking each other off from view and searching intently.

"Oh, I know what you're going to order," she said from behind hers.

He snapped his menu down on the table and lay his elbows on the edge, crossing his arms.

"Oh do you?" he asked.

"I'm not telling you what it is. You'll change it just to prove me wrong," she said.

"Look who's talking," he said and reached for the top of her menu and swung it down. "You're on," he said with a delicious smile.

"What are you suggesting?" she asked, interest piqued.

"We order for each other," he said. "We only change the order if it isn't exactly what we wanted."

"Deal," she replied happily and raised her wine glass to his for a toast.

Blair ordered Pierogies to start and the Duck Breast with orange sauce, turnip puree and brussel sprouts for Dan. In turn he ordered 30 grams of American Sturgeon caviar and a whole steamed flounder with leeks, carrot and ginger for her.

Neither of them complained.

They ate excruciatingly slow and finished off two bottles of Viognier especially fast. They argued over _Downton Abbey_ versus _Game of Thrones_ and contemplated Russia's upcoming election. They touched upon the GOP race and chose the five foods they couldn't live without on a desert island.

They split the crème brulee for dessert, which was either a great idea or a terrible idea as Blair insisted upon savoring every bite and was doing it especially well. Dan was almost jealous of the spoon. The wine had definitely gotten to them.

He helped her into her coat and exited the restaurant with his arm strewn across her shoulders.

"I can't believe our waiter actually commented on our matching clothes," Dan said. "That was a…low point. Thank you for that, by the way."

Blair turned to him and began to play with his coat lapels and giggled. "Well there's only so much you could do with what you had on hand. If your shirt were from Ralph Lauren and not the Gap the look would have been much more subtle," she explained.

"For your information," he said and leaned in close with a grin. "This shirt is from Club Monaco."

"Ooooh, I'm impressed," she said and kissed him before the cab pulled up to the curb.

They entangled their hands during the cab ride home and continued as he walked her into her building and escorted her into the elevator. The doors opened into her foyer and she stepped forward but didn't release her hand from his.

"Come in for a little while?" she asked softly.

"This is supposed to be an old fashioned date," he protested unconvincingly as she pulled him towards the living room.

"Coming in for a nightcap is very classic," she drawled and turned around to face him, stepping backwards towards the bar.

She turned to open a bottle of Ketel One and reached for two glasses.

"That's true," he said and approached her from behind, tracing his fingers lightly, like butterflies, over her arms. He dipped his lips down to the curve of her neck and began to sketch a trail of feather light kisses towards her bare shoulder.

Blair's breaths grew short and shallow and she reached for a few olives and plopped them into the glasses, turned around handed him his drink. She looked flustered. She raised her glass for a toast and then drank it down in a quick gulp. Dan decided to do the same, never taking his off of her now rosier cheeks.

He reached around her and set his glass down on the bar and Blair followed suit. They were dangerously close to one another, suffocatingly even.

"I'm going to kiss you now," Dan said.

"Okay," she whispered and he swept in. The alcohol in him eradicated any pretense of starting slow. He crushed his lips to hers and she willingly parted them. His tongue entangled with hers and the heat between them escalated tenfold.

She tasted like vodka and burnt sugar.

Somehow they ended up on the chaise, with her skirt hiked up and her legs on either side of his. Her hands tugged on his curls and she was ravishing him. Actually having her way with him, and he wasn't about to protest.

Her lips left his, but not before she caught his between her teeth and tugged as she let go. She moved to his ear, and began to suckle at the same time as she began to shift and lift her hips for leverage.

Dan could barely handle the friction she was causing and grew hard under her ministrations. His pants strained, his hands tightened their grip on her hips and when she swept them up again she caught herself on his erection and gasped.

Everything was still for an instant.

Dan's senses heightened and suddenly he was aware of everything around him. He took in the soft amber glow of the dimmed high-hat lights, felt the thick threaded material of the chaise underneath him, and memorized the outline of her chiseled shoulder under his chin. He heard her heavy breathing hot and steamy against his ear and felt that like his, every muscle in her body was rigid.

And then it began to evaporate. Blair began to move her hips again, gently at first and then more insistent, arching in a way to be sure that every time she moved, the bundle of nerves between her legs, hidden underneath her panties, would rub against the firm outline of his cock.

Everything was beautifully hazy and soft to his eyes now.

Dan involuntarily began to meet her strides and lifted his hips ever so slightly to meet hers each time she came back down. He let out a small, guttural moan as she nipped at his neck.

Soon they were kissing again. Hot, wet kisses that burned and consumed all the while their bodies were rhythmically dancing on the chaise. Her skirt was hiked up around her waist and his hands began to wander away from her hips and explore the exposed bare milky part of her thigh and cup the curves of her ass. He pulled her closer, and just as he did, broke away from her lips to let out a grunt, almost a cry of release.

And then froze.

Blair was breathing heavily and the heightened crispness of reality set in. Suddenly the lights were much too bright. He began to feel the hot, sticky liquid seep through his boxers and onto the inside of his pants.

Blair touched her forehead to his, small strands of hair hung down and shaped her flushed face. Her hands rested on his heaving chest.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"It's okay," Dan gulped and it came out hoarse and throaty. "I should…I should go," he said. Blair nodded stiffly and slipped off of him, planting her heels on the floor below and straightening her dress out.

Dan stood up, somewhat awkwardly, and smoothed a hand through his hair. He cleared his throat, embarrassment bubbling to the surface. He leaned down to where Blair was still sitting on the chaise and kissed her quickly on the lips.

"Goodnight," he said.

"Goodnight," she replied and the velvety quality of her voice carried with him all the way to the elevator and home.

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><p><em>Hope this was a good follow up! More to come, obviously. R&amp;R and my life will me MADE!<em>


	3. Week Two

_Sorry this is late! It's technically Tuesday, but it's long so...forgive me? Also, I seriously adore all of the reviews and feedback, especially in response to the awkwardness of the last chapter! Did not expect such a strong reaction from you guys haha. I definitely think there exists a super suave, sexy, take charge Dan out there, but I'm just going with my awkward, kind of bumbling, but still sexy-as-hell Dan for all intents and purposes __of this here story. ;) _

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><p>A cold front swept in and enveloped the city in a bitter chill. Dan figured it gave him the perfect excuse to stay inside—stay in bed—and hibernate.<p>

The day after his date with Blair they texted back and forth, but that was it.

The second day after their date she called him asking what he was doing over the weekend. Just staying in, he said. Writing. Watching the Godfather Saga on AMC.

Oh, she said. He didn't invite her to join.

He hung up and rolled over in bed, burying his face in his pillow. Blair always called before 10am on weekends and he had no idea how she did it with so much perk in her voice. Truthfully, he kind of loved that about her. How her unrelenting voice and tireless energy pushed through the phone and seeped into his ear and echoed through every bone in his body.

He fell back asleep with the happy memory of her voice following him into his dreams.

An hour later Dan jolted awake to the bouncing springs of his mattress and found Blair looking down on him with a tight-lipped, saccharine smile.

Dan groaned, squeezed his eyes shut tight and willed her away from his bed.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" she sang and tapped his arm.

He opened his eyes. "What are you doing here, Blair?" he asked with an exasperated sigh.

"You're avoiding me," she said with a shrug.

"I'm not," he said. He was. But he felt terrible about it. And it was his own damn problem.

"Well," she said and crossed her legs, pushing her shoulders back haughtily. "I'm being unavoidable."

"Oh God," he said and pulled his pillow over his face.

"Advice you happened to give me, by the way, so thank you for that," she said with pep.

He thought about smothering himself. It'd save him the shame he'd most likely be enduring in the near future so long as Blair was this close to him.

"That advice was meant for the direct antithesis of our current situation," he said, muffled through the fabric of the pillow.

"Humphrey," she whined and he felt her recline next to him on the bed, but he didn't budge. She pulled the pillow off of his face and tossed it to the side. Propped up on one elbow and looking down at him, she smiled and batted her eyelashes. "Is this because of the other night?" she asked innocently, but he detected the slightest hint of amusement in her voice.

She thumbed the neckline of his undershirt absentmindedly. "I'm not talking about this with you," he said.

No, he was not going to talk to her about the fact that Blair Waldorf in his lap reduced him to a pile of mush. That she turned him into a middle school boy who was so affected by her that he literally had no restraint. That he was losing his cool, if he ever had any cool at all.

"You know, you're kind of cute when you're annoyed," she said softly, matter of factly.

His scrunched his brow and pursed his lips in suspicion. "You think I'm cute?"

"Mmhmm," she said and dipped her head down, nuzzling her nose against his neck and planting chaste, tiny kisses there.

"Listen, Blair," he said, needing to say something but becoming all too aware that she was purring into his neck and that her heels were kicked off at the end of the bed and her legs intertwined casually with his. "I'm not…I'm not annoyed with you. I don't want you to think you did anything wrong or—"

"Shhh," she hushed and brought a finger to his lips. "Sometimes you talk too much, Humphrey. You get in your own way," she whispered and trailed her finger down along his adam's apple and towards his chest. Her palm splayed out along his torso and he sucked in a breath when her hand disappeared below his comforter and the tips of her fingers dipped into elastic of his boxers.

"Blair," he huffed coarsely. She cut him off by capturing his lips with hers. It was one of those sloppy kisses, when heads aren't quite positioned at the right angle, but it has to happen regardless. Her lips touched along the corner of his mouth and he parted his, straining to snatch hers more completely. Sometimes the best kisses were the ones you needed to work for.

Her hand was cold when it wrapped around his cock, already half rigid— it was morning after all— and continued to stiffen under her grasp.

He didn't protest anymore after that. 

* * *

><p>Dan was a renewed man, restored by the powers and ministrations of a one miss Blair Waldorf. He was bewildered when she gave him a peck on the cheek, hopped off his bed and left, as curiously as she had arrived. He was left with his soiled undershirt and that was that.<p>

He was amazed by her ability to surprise him at any time these days and took to his computer in order to try and capture the new facets of her character he discovered.

At 3pm his phone buzzed with a text. _Btw, Rufus invited me over for the Godfather Marathon tomorrow. May I join? :) _

He smiled to himself as he tapped out his reply. _On one condition. You have to wear pajamas to Godfather marathon days. It's dress code. _

She would hate that so naturally he loved it. It took her an hour to respond and when his phone buzzed again he practically grinned as he reached for his phone.

_Fine—_was all it read.

When she knocked on his door the next day she was in much higher spirits than her last text had suggested.

"I left my gun at home and brought cannoli," she said with a tilt of her head and a bright smile. He returned the sentiment, but she shuffled passed him and straight into the kitchen to set the box on the counter. Dan caught sight of purple silk pant legs peeking out from under her coat and tongued his cheek.

"Well, thank God," Rufus said in response to Blair's entrance and left his seat in the living room to plate them. "We also made spaghetti," he said.

"We?" Blair asked, interest piqued, as Dan helped her out of her coat. He glared at her, unamused.

"The exact recipe from the movie," Rufus piped up excitedly.

"And where's Lily?" Blair asked. Dan found it odd that she was schmoozing with his Dad, especially when Rufus kept throwing him knowing looks. It was going to be a long day.

"She'll be here. Wouldn't miss it," Rufus said.

"Forty years, frankly I don't know who would spend their day any other way," Dan said.

"Wise words," his father said. "Is it too early to break out the Chianti?"

"Okay Dad, now you're bordering on _Silence of the Lambs_ territory," Dan quipped and led Blair to the couch.

She was wearing Uggs, of all things, and a two-piece, royal purple silk pajama set. The top was fashioned like a button down, complete with a collar. "By the way," he whispered in her ear from behind. "I love the outfit."

She swatted him away from her like a buzzing bee. "Shut up, Humphrey, or I'll have a surprise delivered to your bed during the night," she warned.

"Is that a promise?" he asked suggestively and plopped down on the couch, dragging her along with him. "Are you gonna make me an offer I can't refuse?" he joked and threw his arm around her, pulling her close into the crook of his arm.

"Wow," she said and drew out the vowel. "Someone's gotten smug since yesterday morning," she teased.

Luckily he was facing the kitchen and caught Rufus throwing another amused look their way. Dan raised his eyebrows at his father in warning.

They hardly said another word as the marathon started; everyone knew not to disrespect _The Godfather_ by engaging in non-_Godfather_ related conversation—except during commercials. Lily arrived after Sonny's death and complained for about fifteen minutes. Blair was surprised that he was her favorite.

Of course she guessed correctly that Tom Hagen was Dan's and he pegged her for a Michael fan.

"Everyone always overlooks him, but keep your eye on Duvall. He does incredible things with so little," Dan said.

"Which is admirable, of course," Blair began pragmatically. "But Pacino is a revelation on the screen. Not to mention his arc is notoriously one of the best realized versions of the story trope," she argued.

"And Hagan doesn't adhere to an archetypal story trope, which makes everything about him original," he said.

Blair glowered at him, but kept silent as the commercial break ended. Rufus shrugged. He held fast and true to the Don.

By the time Part II started, they had eaten and grown happy and contented. Blair's legs were tucked up on the couch and her head rested on the part of Dan's chest just below his shoulder as she watched intently. He had thrown a blanket over them and underneath her hand intertwined with his and drew light, lazy circles against his skin. His other arm was draped over her shoulders and he matched her artwork with his own feathery back and forth painting of his fingers up and down the length of her arm.

Fifteen minutes into the third movie Rufus and Lily excused themselves and went to bed. Dan had noticed Blair fall asleep right after Fredo died but didn't dare stir her.

"Hey," he whispered finally and pressed his lips to her hair. Blair awoke and stretched, observed her surroundings like a cat does, and turned to face him.

"The parents?" she asked sleepily.

"Bed. They didn't seem to want to stay up for Pacino's emphysema voice and the lack of Robert Duvall's greatness," he said.

"Both valid reasons to refuse the third movie ever existed," she said with a yawn and slung her arms around his neck, arching her head back to invite him in for a kiss. Dan obliged.

"Does that mean we don't have to pay attention anymore?" he asked in between kisses.

She hummed softly into his lips. "We are no longer treading on sacred ground," she said.

"Good," he smiled into her lips and shifted his weight so that she curled back onto the length of the couch and he nestled on top of her. Dan captured her lips in a magnetic kiss, one that pulled her from the couch and arched her up towards him. It was as if she levitated just to be closer to him.

They were both contentedly lethargic—a full day of movie watching was more draining than most people realized—and Dan took to kissing her slowly and lazily, as most activities on Sundays should be treated. But after several minutes, the warmth trapped under her skin emanated from her and he had to feel the transference of molecules from her body melt into his.

His hand began to rove over the slippery silk material of her PJs, but it wasn't enough. He dipped his hand underneath the hem of her shirt and trailed it up the side of her torso. She was burning hot, even more so when he tucked his fingers under the strap of her bra and rubbed against the patch of skin just below her underarm. Since he was underneath the thing, he glided his hand to the left, under its underwire, and cupped her breast within his palm.

Blair gasped and curled her leg around his calf, effectively pushing him closer to her so that the very prominent bulge in his flannel pajama pants was once again pressed up against her center. He trailed his tongue down her neck and towards the crevice between her breasts and took back his hand from underneath her shirt in order to work on the buttons. He managed to unfasten two of them and expose the black satin of her bra before he heard that wonderful sound again.

"Dan," she said with a gasp and he darted out his tongue to trace to the curve of her breast in appreciation. "Dan," she said again, but with more urgency. She brought her palms to his shoulders and gave them a slight push.

He pulled back. "What's wrong?" he asked, unsteady.

"I think we should slow down," she said in a shaky voice. Dan gulped and nodded his head. "It's not that….It's not that I don't want…" she trailed off.

"Yeah," he agreed, trying to gain composure over his body. He crawled off of her and sat back on the couch and she lifted herself up so that her knees were brushing his thigh and she was facing him, hair mussed, silk shirt partially unbuttoned.

Yesterday she came all the way to Brooklyn just to give him a handjob, and now she was stopping him short of anything. He was thoroughly thrown for a loop.

"It's just…" she trailed off again and bit her lip. They locked eyes, both of their chests were heaving, their hormones swirling like hurricanes within them. And then she surged forward and kissed him crushingly, swinging her leg over him and hoisting herself up on her knees so that she was hovering above him now. Dan threw his head back against the back of the couch and resigned to let her have her way with him. He cupped her ass and squeezed, trying to remember where he put his newest condoms.

He supposed that was why she thought of pressing pause—before thoughts like that could become a legitimate threat to their plan.

"Wait wait wait," he said just as she raked her teeth lightly over his bottom lip. He moved his hands to her hips and found her looking down on him, her hair cascading from her shoulders and tickling his face. "You were right we should wait," he said and lifted her off of him in order to place her on the couch and at a safe distance from him.

Blair shook her head and scrunched her nose, as if shaking some sense into herself. "Of course. Yes, we definitely should." She licked her lips and he found himself directing his stare to the heaving of her chest and the slight swell of her breasts underneath her bra.

He jerked his head up. "But how? Every time we're around each other, this—" he waved a finger back and forth between them, "—happens."

Blair turned away from him and concentrated hard for several moments. Finally she jolted up from the couch. "Okay, first—" she said in a down-to-business tone. "No sitting on the same item of upholstered furniture of any kind."

He cocked his head. "Really?"

"Secondly, we can only see each other in public places. On scheduled dates where we do various activities that keep us busy and preoccupied from our uncontrollable and…truthfully quite bafflingly adolescent urges," she concluded.

They shook on it and scheduled a skype session for the next day to plan their upcoming rendezvous.

And that was that. 

* * *

><p>They met at 2:00pm on Tuesday at a posh tearoom and ordered a pot of Red Vanilla Rooibos and their day of activities began.<p>

2:45pm

"I'm not saying _On the Road_ isn't to be taken seriously. It does represent the pinnacle of the beat generation. It's just not my cup of tea," Blair said and brought her cup to her lips and sipped daintily.

"Clever," Dan said sarcastically and she raised an eyebrow.

"It's like Cassavettes' _Shadows. _Admirable. A great snapshot of the time and culture, but ultimately it doesn't hold up," she continued.

Dan let his cup clink loudly down on its saucer and leaned forward in his chair. "You know, sometimes I think you argue with me because you like it, not because you actually agree with all the insane things that come out of your mouth," he said.

"Maybe I do," she offered sweetly.

"It's really the only explanation."

"It must be," she agreed.

He narrowed his eyes. "Okay, so tell me what you really think of _On the Road." _

Blair just smiled.

3:30pm

"I can't believe you haven't seen _The Artist_," he said as they walked to the theater.

"If you remember, I was a little busy during awards season," she said. "I haven't seen a movie in months. And not with you since—"

"Last year," he finished for her.

"Right," she said warmly and hooked her arm through his for the rest of the walk.

4:15pm

"Humphrey," she whined. "There's no one here."

They chose seats in the back of the theater and had waited for more people to arrive. (It was customary, of course, to arrive at the theater 45 minutes before showtime, anytime). Only three others had filed in.

"It's a weekday matinee of a movie that's been out for months, what did you expect?" he asked. Blair sunk back in her plush velvet chair.

Dan looked down at the plastic armrest between them. "May I?" he said and began to lift it and push it back in between their seats.

"I suppose. It's not entirely against the rules." Blair kept her arms crossed but scooted to the side and closer to Dan so that he could throw his arm around her shoulders. They were technically in two separate seats after all.

This was going to be a lot different than sitting two seats away from each other.

5:00pm

"Humphrey!" she whisper-yelled at him when his nose nuzzled her hair and his breath touched her ear.

"Mmhmm?" he said, paying no attention.

"What are you doing?"

He walked his fingers along her dress and hooked them around the hem, pulling it back so that he could rest his hand along the inside of her thigh. "Don't mind me," he purred into her ear. "Just sit back, relax, and watch the movie." He said playfully and finished off with a little chuckle that he swallowed in the back of his throat and dipped his tongue into the groove between her neck and her collarbone.

She hissed. "Movie theaters have always been a sacred place," she said breathily, trying to protest. "It's always been a…a…rule of mine."

His hand travelled another inch up her thigh. "You think it's disrespectful to the movie, don't you?" he asked. He found all of her rationalities to be severely entertaining, whether adorable or infuriating. Often they were both.

She nodded. "As a matter of fact, yes," she said.

"Well," he whispered and moved another inch up her thigh. "I've seen it. And all you have to do is keep your eyes forward, focus and listen to the music." Another inch. "I promise Michel Hazanavicius won't be offended."

He was just nearing the end of her thigh highs and flipped his fingers around so that the backs of his knuckles could graze the exposed flesh there when he stopped short.

"Seriously?" he asked.

She was wearing real stockings instead of her usual thigh highs and garter belt.

"My chastity belt," she said jauntily with a mischievous glint in her eyes, probably targeted at his disappointment.

Dan settled back against the deep rich velvet upholstery in a huff and fixed his attention ahead.

7:00pm

They sat with their backs against a deep, chocolate colored leather booth surrounded by a rustic ambience of distressed wood and exposed brick in a restaurant known for its local, farm raised meats and the complexity of their cocktails.

Wrought iron chandeliers provided low lighting and candles on each table provided the rest.

"This is definitely breaking the rules," Blair said.

"How, Blair?" he asked.

"Upholstered furniture!" she cried and pointed to the both between them.

Dan sighed and reached for his menu. "Well we can sit on opposite ends of the table, but then we can't share their signature filet for two," he grumbled. "Which, I might add, was the entire point of coming here."

"Fine," she resigned and grabbed her menu with zeal.

"Fine."

They sat side-by-side, reading the menu and huffing in sync.

"How do you want it done?" he asked.

"Rare," she scoffed. As if that were even a question.

"Good." He snapped the menu shut.

8:00pm

Their filet melted in their mouths and the short rib kale ragout was to die for. Blair even tried the roasted bone marrow.

She ordered the Garden Snake cocktail—made of organic gin, cucumber juice, lemon soda and thai basil. He loved that she didn't drink sweet, girly drinks. But he didn't tell her.

He ordered the Brooklyn—made with bourbon, southern comfort, bitters and cherry. _Typical_ she said.

She set his teeth on edge the entire time. Their banter was sharper, more biting. And as they became more inebriated, they became more frustrated with each other.

He downed the last of his third drink after a particularly heated discussion on existentialism and set it heavily on the table.

"Dessert?"

"What do you think?" she said and reached into his glass to retrieve his cherry. She brought it to her lips and took her time pooping it into her mouth, twirling the stem the entire time.

He glared at her. "Poached apple?"

"What do you think?" she said and her eyes gleamed.

"I think," he said and leaned in close. "That we need to go to the bathroom and I need ravish you. Right. Now."

The air between them grew taught and thick. "Yes," she breathed, placing a hand on his knee.

"We need to release all of this…tension. Not be cliché, but we could cut it with a knife."

"Yes," she sighed again.

"Yes," he concurred and brushed her hair behind her ear and traced her ear with this thumb.

"No," she whispered.

The air deflated between them the way a moon bounce folds in on itself.

"No," he repeated. "No, you're right."

9:15pm

They shared the warm poached apple with ginger ice cream, whiskey caramel and hazelnut pecan crumble and made out in the cab the entire ride back to her penthouse.

He walked her to the door and kissed her, his hands tucked underneath her ears, thumbs stroking her jaw.

"Well we survived the day, though not for lack of trying to fail," he said with a sly smile. "I won't be escorting you upstairs if that's all right."

"Unacceptable," she teased, and he caught her smile with his lips once more before bidding her goodnight and heading home towards Brooklyn.

* * *

><p><em>Thoughts? Not as awkward as last time? <em>


	4. Week Three

_Only two more Mondays to go, right? We're getting there, darlings. In the meantime, much like the entire fandom, Dan and Blair remain hot and bothered. ;)  
>There are several screwball comedy references in here. Shoutouts to those who guess them correctly! Also, for anyone who has read "At Any Rate" I kind of wrote an homage to it. As always, tell me you love me (or not), but tell me something nonetheless! - Air <em>

* * *

><p>Dan stumbled out of bed and towards the door to the loft at behest of the loud and unrelenting knocking on the other side. He had a feeling he knew who it was, and he was prepared to put on his most annoyed face.<p>

"Okay Blair what do you—"

But Blair wasn't on the other side. Instead, a wide-eyed, rather scared looking messenger stood before him.

"Hi," the young man said.

"Hello," Dan said in a dubious voice. "Can I help you?"

The man reached into his bag and pulled out a package, covered in wrapping paper that was purposely fashioned to look distressed and antique.

"Sorry, I was told to knock until I got an answer. No excuses. Sorry," the man said and scurried away.

Dan shut the door with a kick of his foot and sat at the bar to unwrap his mysterious package. He tore at the paper and first came across a simple card with elegant handwriting scrolled on it.

_I have a funny feeling that this is your favorite. True or False? If true, be at my place at 9:00pm. Sharp. Xoxo – B_

He set the note aside and finished unwrapping the parcel, tearing away the vintage inspired paper and revealing an equally as vintage looking—and most likely not as artificial—book. Or….several? Magazines. Four magazines that were old and their pages yellowed and their scent like that old musty scent you get when a book hasn't been opened in ages.

There were four copies of an orange and black Sribner's and the covers boasted:

_Tender is the Night  
>A Romance<br>By F. Scott Fitzgerald _

They were the first edition.

Dan's mouth fell open.

He took out his phone and dialed Blair. It rang an agonizing seven times before going to voicemail. _"Hi, this is Blair. Anyone who knows anything knows that I'm on my way back from visiting my parents in France for a long weekend, so you must not be important if you're calling me right now." _Dan grimaced in his seat. _"Oh, and Dan, look in the last issue of Scribner's for your next clue. And don't call me again!" _

Did Blair really just record a specific voicemail for him? Knowing he'd call? And she left him clues? Dan was dumbstruck. He leafed through the pages of the final installment until a small piece of paper escaped and floated to the ground. He groaned and dismounted from his seat to pick it up. All that was written on it—in the same immaculate handwriting— was an address and a time.

Dan stepped out of a cab on the Upper East Side and checked the address on his slip of paper. He sighed and emitted a large, billowy cloud of breath; she had sent him to a tailor. He bristled, almost got back in the cab, but thought better of it and entered.

A nice old Italian man name Giovanni pulled out a beige suit and a—

"I…truthfully have no idea what this color is," Dan said, looking down at his button up while his pants were being tugged at and pinned.

"It's a mauve," was his answer.

"Huh," he said.

Dan patted his jacket, felt inside to find the pocket and slip his wallet inside, and came out with another note between his fingers. He scowled at the idea that Blair was sending him around the city all day, alone—dressing him up and God knows what else for her own twisted satisfaction—and then he remembered. He remembered last year when he had assumed she was doing just this, only wrongly. He remembered how he would usually hate such a thing, but that he ducked his head with a bashful smile and Eric had noticed right away that things had changed. His thoughts and perceptions and opinions on things—on Blair, had realigned.

And so he repeated that same bashful grin, dipping his head down at the thought of her presumptuous plans and schemes and ideas that made so much sense to her. A year later he again welcomed her meddling and felt a warm affection for it.

His next note led him to a vintage record store, where he was directed to the 1920's section and told to choose one he liked. He chose a Duke Ellington album and reached for his wallet to pay, but it was already taken care of. The cashier handed him a note instead.

_You owe me a drink tonight if you chose Duke Ellington_.

Was he really that predictable? Or was she really just that good?

Next he ended up in a quaint coffee shop where he was served a Waldorf salad and handed a copy of _The Sun Also Rises_. Dan had trouble digging into his salad, but he appreciated the irony of its name.

Dan was getting anxious, annoyed that it was only three o'clock and another six hours lay ahead of him before he could see her. He couldn't resist trying her phone again.

"You have some nerve," she answered haughtily.

"Hello to you too, Waldorf," he said dryly and took a casual sip of his tea.

"Speaking of!" her voice lifted an octave excitedly. "Are you enjoying your lunch?"

"I am, though I can't say I'm able to devour this thing—though I admit you're being _very_ droll today, so…kudos there," he said.

"What's the matter, Dan?" she asked, the syrupy sweetness of her voice pouring out of the receiver. "You don't want to eat me?"

Dan almost spit out his tea and before he could gather himself she had hung up. He cursed to himself and reached for his napkin. 

* * *

><p>Dan sauntered out of the elevator at 8:59. He was wearing freshly shined, brown shoes, his beige suit with subtle dark maroon pinstripes and his mauve shirt—whatever color that was.<p>

Blair appeared from the kitchen with a wide smile. She had on a short nude dress covered with tiny beads that formed intricate designs—and happened to be the same color as his shirt. Dan smiled. Matching again.

"I'm impressed with your timing, Humphrey. Nice work," she said and rushed towards him, grabbing his hands with hers and bestowing a soft kiss on his lips.

"Believe it or not I was taught how to tell time—despite growing up in a cave a mile underground where the sun never shined," he retorted with playful sarcasm.

"Oh," she crooned as she led him into the sitting room. "He makes jokes now, too."

"It was the only pastime available to us during the long, brutal winters," he continued and then stopped short. "Who's this guy?" Dan pointed skeptically to an attentive man behind the bar.

"We can't very well start our foray into the twenties without a little prohibition libation now can we?" she said and reached out for a highball that the bartender handed to her. "Mint julep?" She handed him one and turned back for another.

His vision suddenly seemed to snap into focus. He saw everything now. From the scalloped hem of her dress to the subtle but light finger waves in her hair as it swept back into a loose up do that gathered at the nape of her neck. He noticed his own pinstriped suit and remembered Duke Ellington and _The Sun Also Rises. _And Fitzgerald. Of course.

"So you've discovered time travel," he said as his class clinked against hers in toast. "Is there anything you can't do?"

"That remains to be seen," she said sweetly and sipped her drink.

She brought him to a club fashioned after the 1920s, from the richness of the bar to the upholstered furniture and the menu it boasted. And it was a Wednesday, which meant twenties jazz was playing all night long. The tinny sound of the old recordings pulled Dan deep into a rose colored world he'd imagined countless times while writing in his loft, and here he was, sharing it with Blair Waldorf. Rather, here he was as facilitated by Blair Waldorf.

They cozied up together on a plush velvet couch in a dimly lit corner and for the rest of the night,Dan could only think in Fitzgerald phrases.

_**"I like large parties. They're so intimate. At small parties there isn't any privacy."**_

Blair sidled up to him, thighs touching, and had no intention of moving away anytime soon. She set her elbow into the groove of his shoulder and curled her fingers in his hair.

"Let's drink to excess and order much too many small plates just for tasting," she said into his ear. The club clamored with music and people and she seemed content to buzz into his ear all night.

They ordered spiced almonds with cinnamon, nutmeg, clove and ginger, caviar, fried oysters, and potato crisps tossed in duck fat and served with a truffle crème fraiche. Blair ordered a cocktail made with gin, lemon, maple syrup, orange and champagne. Dan ordered one with aged rum, lime and yellow chartreuse.

By their third drink and their plates picked over, her legs were crossed and the one on top was tucked behind his calf. She was toying absentmindedly with the lapels of his suit jacket and using her flirting voice as her only voice. It was driving Dan deliriously crazy.

"So, Dan, how do you like your date?" she asked, lips curling up and eyes ablaze.

"As far as blindsiding me into it and effectively Midnight in Paris-ing me goes—the best I've ever been on," he drawled.

"Where do you want to go next?" She whispered in his ear. "How about sixties mod? Or the fifties? Just don't make me take you to a Ginsbergian poetry reading, okay?"

He nuzzled in closer, inhaling the scent of her hair. "Let's just stay like this for now."

"Okay," she said. "But not for too long. Everything in this decade is temporary. Nothing lasts in this world."

It was as if every word Blair said was how he imagined every woman from the twenties to speak. She hung on to the Fitzgerald like breathiness in her voice. She conveyed everything as if it were all a clever joke, but there remained a depth there that never left her voice. It was feminine and rich and held in its reverberations all of the wisdom of the world while he was contented to maintain the role of the Fitz fool. Men had no hope here and he was just fine with that.

"For a little while, at least. We can skip out when I start drinking away my troubles and you throw a crystal glass at my head," he said with a playful smile.

"Sounds fair," she said.

"So…about 3am?" he offered and held up his hand for another drink.

_**"Strange children should smile at each other and say, "Let's play."**_

"Come on," Blair said and sat up straight on the sofa. "I've had five drinks and am feeling mischievous." She pulled him up and let him towards the bar.

"Uh-uh," Dan said. "I won't allow you to publicly humiliate strangers because you're unable to take my clothes off in the bathroom."

She waved him off. "Relax, Humphrey. All with good intentions," she said.

Dan gave her a quizzical look before shrugging it off. "Speaking of, I'm going to head to the men's room," he said and kissed her on the cheek. "Any idea where it is?"

"The south-by-southwest parlor by way of the second living room," she called out cheekily as he began to push his way through the crowd. Then he realized she was quoting _The Philadelphia Story _and threw her a bemused look, although she knew he loved it.

When Dan returned Blair was sitting at the bar, chatting furiously away with the bartender. He approached and leaned against the shiny mahogany beside her but she didn't look his way.

"I'm telling you, start using this as a running gag at the bar and your tips will double. Watch," she said and daintily picked an olive out of a crystal dish and placed it on the back of her hand. She then slapped at it with her free hand and sent the olive catapulting through the air and it smacked Dan directly in the face.

Blair looked over at him as he grimaced and began to laugh monumentally. "Nice trick, Susan Vance," he quipped.

"Why thank you, David," she said with no indication that she picked up on his disgruntled sarcasm. She turned to the bartender. "Michael, this is my bodyguard, David. He's an awfully rigid and serious man with no sense of fun or adventure but nevertheless—" she sighed for effect. "We're engaging in a secret and lurid affair." Without missing a beat she jumped right into the next topic. "Now, can you be a doll and get us two gin martinis with equal parts vermouth and extra olives?" She batted her eyelashes at the man, having spoken circles around him so that he just nodded, dazed and rather confused. "Thank you!" she chirped and turned to Dan with a wide smile.

"You've moved on to the thirties now?" he asked and sat down in the seat next to hers. "I didn't think I was gone that long."

"You have no idea," she said, as if she mustered up the swelling of her heart, with all of its reverence and affection for him and hurled it towards him. Everything she had was now zeroed in on him and the thought of her missing him for the span of five minutes registered in his brain and exploded—sending small, neon colored confetti dots showering before his eyes.

He thought of another Fitzgerald quote. One of his favorites, and he repeated it in his mind._ "There is a moment—Oh, just before the first kiss, a whispered word—something that makes it worth while."_

She stretched across the bar and reached towards him, to which he met her with a newfound wonderment. He captured her lips with his, for the first time that evening, and began to dance with them.

_**"She was dazzling- alight; it was agony to comprehend her beauty in a glance."**_

They sipped at their old fashioned martinis to wash down the sweetness of their previous drinks and it was Blair's turn to excuse herself to the ladies room. Dan waited, strummed his fingers along the bar in time with the jazzy, upbeat music. He was suddenly inspired by the burning of gin down his chest and stood up, a bit unsteadily before taking off.

He intercepted her among a crowd of people.

"Hello you," he said as she fiddled with her clutch. She had been looking down and he positioned himself so she'd run right into him. Her nose wrinkled in annoyance until she looked up. It faded away into an intoxicating smile.

"Hello," she said, deflating into contentedness.

He took in her flushed cheeks and the fly aways of hair that feathered around her face. She was as happily inebriated as he, which delighted him.

"You look fine," he said, with an emphasis on fine. This fine was no siphoner, no understatement. It was the kind of fine where he drew out the vowel and made it light and airy. The kind of fine that was free from impurity and absolutely dazzling.

"I feel fine," she said, as if she were going to float up from the ground where her feet were planted. "Let's dance," she said and flung her arms around him.

Dan instantly took to swaying along with the light crooning and easy tempo of the music. He reached around to take her hand and held it out to their side, leading her with his other hand on the small of her back.

"So, Tracy," Dan said. "It's now 1941. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Blair beamed. "Nothing, Professor," she said.

Just then the music changed to a much faster big band tempo and Dan threw her away from him only to tug her back with a twirl and immediately transitioned into a swing step.

"I didn't know you knew swing," she said.

"Believe it or not there are a few things you don't know about me," he said and dipped her. She giggled and gazed directly into his eyes. Dan didn't want to be presumptuous, but he couldn't help but think in that moment that he'd never seen her happier.

Furthermore, he couldn't help but think that because of that, she'd never been more beautiful than she was in that instant. She was sparkling as bright as diamonds from within and he felt almost blinded by it. It was possible Dan had never been so fortunate to feast his eyes on such beauty before in his life.

_**"It takes two to make an accident."**_

By one in the morning they'd been drinking for three hours and dancing for one and a half. Dan came back from the bar with two half-sized martini glasses (the fashion of the times) and handed one to Blair. She held the stem between her fingers and the bowl in her upwards-facing palm and was ready to continue on.

"Thank you," she said with a high-pitched clip at the end and flung her free arm around his neck so that she could sip and dance at once.

He waved back on forth, switching the weight of their bodies from side to side as the music continued on.

"You're very welcome umm…" and he paused, furrowing his brow. "What should I call you? Miss…?"

"That's Miss Susan Tracy Daisy Lord Vance Buchanan…Nora to _you,"_ she said with a bit of a slur.

"Okay Miss Katharine Hepburn Daisy Nora Buchanan to me," he said with a short nod and sipped his drink.

Blair decided in that moment to facilitate a twirl and swung their intertwined bodies around on the dance floor. When Dan whirled around his drink sloshed a bit over the edges of the glass and pattered on the floor. It was no matter really, except that his back happened to collide with another dancer holding a drink, and the cold, clear liquid ended up all over his suit jacket.

"Hey, watch it," the girl holding her now empty glass snapped.

Dan felt the cold trickle begin to seep through to his shirt, but before he could react properly Blair had disentangled from him and was face to face with the woman.

"I think you meant excuse me," Blair bit out in her very best Queen B voice. "Better yet, excuse _you. _Why don't you take your cheap Urban Outfitters flapper dress and tacky costume jewelry back to the costume shop where they belong. This isn't Halloween and you just ruined my boyfriend's custom-made suit."

Dan had stripped off his jacket and folded it over his arm. "Boyfriend?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Well you should teach your _boyfriend_ how to better keep his balance," the girl snapped.

"Oh no really, you should see how often I fall down entirely when I'm around her," Dan said. "This was actually quite an accomplishment."

"What?" the girl sneered, arms crossed.

"Hmm," Blair contemplated with a slight tilt of her head. "It really was, wasn't it?" Dan nodded. They both remembered well.

"Whatever, then you two rich assholes owe me another drink," she said.

Dan and Blair shared a look. "What do you say, Dan?"

"Fine by me," he shrugged.

Blair promptly held out her martini glass and tipped it over, pouring its contents down the front of the girl's dress.

"Oops," Blair said sweetly. "Gosh, I guess I'm just as clumsy as you are, honey," she said.

Dan tried to suppress a laugh and caught it in his throat. The girl gasped and looked about ready to scream when Dan grabbed Blair by the arm.

"Time to go," he said and dragged her away.

Blair continued to scowl at the girl until they rounded a corner and she was out of view.

_**"I am slow-thinking and full of interior rules that act as brakes on my desires"**_

"It's really fine," Dan said once in the town car she insisted on taking for the date, despite his distaste for them. "I don't know how well I could really pull this off anyway." He lifted the arm with his jacket draped over it.

Blair rolled her eyes. "Shut up you looked gorgeous in it."

"What was that?" he said, kind of taken aback, kind of wanting to milk the comment for all it was worth.

"You heard me," she said with a sly smile.

He slid along the leather seat and closed the gap between them.

"Uh-uh," she said and placed an open palm on his chest as warning not to come any closer. "I won't repeat myself so don't get greedy."

Dan pressed his body weight against her hand. "I hope you know I'm holding this against you forever," he said and tried to reach her for a kiss but her hand held steady.

"I'll deny it," she said. "Plus, you're drunk."

"So are you," he said and dipped a hand under her knee. "You poured a drink on an innocent girl tonight to defend my honor, you must be unbearably intoxicated."

Blair's breath shortened. "You had a good time?" she said quietly, unsure. Her eyes swept down and she fidgeted with the hem of her dress.

"Are you kidding?" Dan said but she remained timid. He lifted her chin with his finger and brought her up to face him. "Best date I've ever been on," he said slowly, seriously, in order to assure her he meant it.

She searched his eyes for a moment and then broke into a smile. "By how much? I want a percentage," she said insistently, but with a twinkle of good humor.

"By far," he answered.

"Worth it?" she asked.

Dan faltered. He wasn't quite sure what she was asking, though his clouded brain didn't seem to be helping him much. She meant it, he saw the insecurity in her face and didn't want to give her the wrong answer. He thought for a moment that this was a test, and if he misunderstood her question he would fail and have to live with the shame of disappointing her.

Then it clicked.

"I assure you," he began. "Dating Blair Waldorf is very, _very_ much worth _not_ sleeping with Blair Waldorf…as much as I may want to."

Blair smiled and kissed him, parting lips and deliciously smacking them together with very little tongue—but it set him on fire regardless. She pulled away just as he tried to deepen it.

"We did really well tonight," she said.

"We did," he said. "We should be proud of us. We've shared two upholstered seats and survived, dignity and honor fully in tact."

They were both high on the confidence of alcohol and minor achievements, so Blair allowed him to escort her to the penthouse. It would be the perfect end to the perfect date, as planned by her.

Dan held the door open for her and followed her into the elevator. He was able to reflect, albeit momentarily and foggily, on all that Blair had orchestrated and just for him. He was suddenly overtaken with an immense desire not to thank her, but to _show _her his appreciation.

There she stood, looking ahead, hair tufted at her neck, dress just gliding over every curve and hitting against her upper thigh. Her nude stockings caught the gold from the elevator door and shimmered.

He remembered his previous drunken elevator ride. _A man of action_.

Dan surged forward and flipped up the emergency stop lever. The elevator lurched to a volatile halt. Blair yelped and in an instant had turned her fiery temper on him.

"Humphrey!" she cried. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Shut up," he said and was upon her after a gallant stride. He crushed his mouth to hers, more overwhelming and lustful than their kisses usually were. She parted her lips and he slipped his tongue into her mouth, inviting her to duel.

Her back hit the wall of the elevator and his body was instantly flush against hers. And while he had her distracted, absorbed in the ferocious battle of wills fought by tongues, Dan wasted no time in finding the hem of her skirt and tugging it up. His hand moved up her thigh and found she was once again wearing thigh highs, thank God.

When he made contact with bare skin she gasped and pulled away from him. Their foreheads touched, and with each short, staccato breath she took his fingers pursued on their coarse up her inner thigh and inched closer and closer to her core. He reached the thin silk material of her panties and trailed his middle finger against the triangle scrap, and he could feel that it was already damp.

"Dan," she whimpered. "What are you…." she had to pause and gulp. "What are you doing?"

Their foreheads still resting on each other for support, their breathing now deep and heavy, Dan felt as if they'd been transported to a hot, sticky humidity ridden rainforest. The brass accoutrements in the elevator were bound to fog up any second.

"Just trust me," he said and began to pull down her underwear, slowly and methodically. He made it over her knee before he yanked and snapped the flimsy string. Finally, there was no barrier between him and Blair's dripping wet cunt. Dan swept a finger between her folds until he found her clit and applied pressure. At his touch, Blair smacked her lips together and rolled her eyes shut.

"I promise I won't have sex with you," Dan whispered in her ear and thrust two fingers deep inside of her. Blair gasped for air and clamped down with both hands on his shoulders to steady herself. "No matter how much you beg me to."

Dan smiled and captured her lips in a slow, languid kiss that was sweltering. He began to pump in and out of her in a torturously slow rhythm. He took his time, reveling in every mewing sound that escaped from her lips. He memorized the flushed pink of her cheeks and couldn't help but sweep his free hand along the glistening sheen of her bare shoulder.

"Mmm, more," she managed to exhale in a scratchy sigh. "Please."

He hooked his free arm under her leg and brought it up and around his hip, gaining a better angle and began to pump faster, harder. Blair threw her head back against the wall and Dan instantly dipped his head to her neck and began to suckle.

"Oh God," she cried out and fisted a hand in his hair.

Dan figured it was about to time to find her clit with his thumb and began to rub. Her entire body tensed and her inner muscles tightened around his fingers, building and building and building—pulling on his hair, nails digging into his shoulder, leg hooked around him and pulling him as close to her as possible—until it was impossible to build up the pressure any longer and her entire frame wracked with a shudder and a wave of release subsequently rolled over her. Her grip on him eased, her muscles deflated, save for aftershocks that seemed to shoot through her like conducting electricity.

Dan hated to slip his fingers out, but he did, and even when he reached out to flip the lever back on she remained gripped to him, relying on him to hold her up. When the door chimed and the doors parted, he practically had to peel her off of him. Dan steadied her on her feet and smoothing out her mussed hair. He kissed her sweetly on the lips.

"Goodnight, Blair," he said. "Get some sleep."

* * *

><p><em>Well? (Also, I've been fashioning Blair's outfits and the clubs and restaurants off of real things. I've been thinking of being very vain and posting pictures and links on Tumblr or something. Would that be cool?) R&amp;R! <em>


	5. Week Four

_Hey everyone! So sorry I didn't get this update up on Monday. My mom is in town and we've been running around town all week! And I'm just a damn slow writer. Anyway I sincerely hope you enjoy this update. It'll be the last one before the show comes back and I think I'm planning one more chapter where I fill in the blanks to Monday's episode. Would everyone be into that as a finale? You know what that means, don't you? ;) _

* * *

><p>The city was unusually warm for mid March and it suddenly seemed like Spring was in full swing. And it wasn't just because Dan was sprawled out on a patchwork quilted picnic blanket in the middle of Central Park.<p>

It was also because of the birds chirping from all directions. From the roadwork being done to repair the winter damage. And from the way the light breeze wisped at the hem of Blair's light blue and white woven tweed dress. She was on her stomach, propped up on her elbows and leafing through fashion editorials as she sipped absent-mindedly on her green tea lemonade. Dan was supposed to be reading Faulkner's _Light in August_, but kept getting distracted by the hem of her dress flapping softly against her–for once—bare thigh.

"That's it. I can't do this," Dan groaned and flopped his open book over his face, blocking out his view of the gray steel buildings against the pale blue sky above.

"Wooow," Blair said, a flimsy magazine page crinkling as she turned it. "Whine much?"

"Why don't you try to read Faulkner and then we'll talk," he said from underneath the pages.

"I have," Blair retorted haughtily. "And the only way you can read him is locked away in a quiet, well lit room. Otherwise you'll never absorb the stream of consciousness, you'll just be reading words."

"I'm never going to finish by tomorrow, and this is my only class," he said.

Blair shifted onto her side to face him and yanked the book off of his face, snapping it shut with one hand and smacking him in the chest with it.

"Ow! Hey!" he protested.

"Your complaining is ruining my day out in the park," she said with a pout. "Now hush."

Dan smiled as Blair returned to her previous position; the suction of green tea lemonade swiveling up the straw and the crinkling of the magazine pages became music to his ears. He rolled over to match her, closing the gap on the quilt between them and tucked his arms under his face.

"Good, then I'll take a nap," he said and closed his eyes.

The suction from the straw stopped, as did the crinkling. He could feel her eyes on him.

"What?" he said after a beat, keeping his eyes shut.

"You're actually going to take a nap? And in public?" she asked incredulously.

"Dare I ask what's wrong with it?" Dan said, popping his eyes open.

Blair scoffed. "First of all, napping at all is for pre-teens whose hormones are doing strange things to their sleep cycles or for college students who go to state schools and wear sweatpants to class. And sleeping in public is specifically reserved for the homeless or destitute!"

"Sometimes I'm not sure you're human," Dan said and yawned for effect. He shut his eyes again and she returned to her magazine with a grimace.

When Dan stirred awake he was surprised to find he was once again opening his eyes to the vast expanse of the sky above. He must have turned onto his back. And slept on his arm, since it felt heavy and prickled from falling asleep under some sort of weight. He wiggled it to shake the feeling back into it but found it more difficult than usual. Then he heard a soft moan and when he looked down the length of his body, he found a very content looking Blair nestled up against him and asleep. Her head lay in the crook of his arm and her arm was draped over his torso.

Dan smiled to himself before settling his head back against the quilt, feeling the moist earth underneath and waiting for her to wake up. He didn't mind if it took hours.

* * *

><p>Later that week they went to dinner and a movie – though they preferred to do a movie and then dinner – and by the time they made it into the cab towards the penthouse, Blair had fallen asleep on his shoulder.<p>

Dan thought about how many times she'd done that and still insisted she never napped or fell asleep in a public space. The energizer bunny did occasionally need to be recharged. Ever since their day in Central Park together Blair had been furiously reapplying to Columbia for the fall. She had dropped out to become a full time princess and decided over lunch that she wanted to re-enroll.

"I want to be a regular girl again," she said and took a bit of her salad. "I want to worry about real things like my degree and future career and how to introduce you to my family."

Dan set down his ice tea. "First of all, you'll definitely never be a regular girl since you never were one to begin with. Plus it'd require wearing jeans. Secondly, I already know your parents."

Blair waved her hand in the air dismissively. "Eleanor's favorite cater waiter sitting at the table because he's dating her daughter? Do you _know_ my mother?"

Dan scowled and furiously drenched a sweet potato fry in chipotle mayo. "So it just doesn't matter that I'm a published author if I'm from Brooklyn and previously had to work for my spending money. Makes sense," he said dryly. Dan was getting tired of the same old shtick and wondered what it would take – if anything – to prove himself worthy of the Upper East Side. Not that he particularly cared; that is, if not for Blair.

He couldn't help but wear a sour expression on his face for the rest of lunch and Blair grew conspicuously quiet. When they took a stroll down the street she grabbed his hand and laced her fingers in between his, but remained silent. He planned to take the subway home and held her face in his hands when he kissed her goodbye, which elicited a delicate smile, though her eyes looked solemn.

They hadn't had a fight, not even a spat, and by their movie and dinner date, neither held on to any residual concerns from lunch. They'd had a perfectly lovely evening, and Dan was having a particularly lovely time as Blair slept on his shoulder; so much so that when the cab pulled up to her building, he decided to carry her in.

Dan carefully positioned one arm under her knees and the other across her back and held her to his chest. He was surprised at how light she was, and how small she seemed in his arms. The doorman helped him with the elevator and nodded his head goodnight as Dan whispered a hushed thank you.

He tread carefully up the steps, looking down at the top of her pretty head of hair, and noticed how delicately her hand fisted around his coat lapel. He swept passed Serena's door, the only light to guide him down the hallway spilled out from under it. It was soft and helped him find his way, but it also served as a daunting reminder.

Dan bent his knees and struggled to peel her quilt back from the bed—it was made, of course—until he could lay her down atop of the sheets, which appeared to billow around her as if cushioning her like a cloud. Blair stirred, but settled against her pillow after a moment. He couldn't resist his urge to lean down and kiss her forehead. He had never seen her look so angelic.

As he turned to leave he felt her hand clamp down around his and tug at it lightly so as to urge him to change his direction. Dan obliged. "Hey," he said softly.

She smiled serenely. "Stay with me?"

Dan's mind was suddenly swept blank. What did it mean? Every nerve ending in his body was suddenly on overdrive and screaming _sex_ at him. Chanting, really. But then Blair curled her quilt around her and held it tight, like one does to a stuffed animal, and he forced his sex starved self to calm down.

"Uhhh…sure," he gulped and made his way awkwardly to the door and closed it. Her room was still and quiet and he hated to intrude on that certain silence that the night commands. It's sometimes eerie, but often peaceful in its tranquility. He tiptoed around to the other side of the bed and hovered there an instant, unsure of what to do. Blair rolled over to face him, cozied up in her down comforter. He squirmed under her contented gaze and his eyes darted from side to side. His heart rate spiked and the giant muscle pounded in his ears until he finally resigned to peeling off his coat—along with his button down, his shoes, socks, and finally his pants.

There was a draft in the room and standing there just in his boxers, exposed and a little confused, Dan hurriedly dove under the covers next to Blair. When he settled in he suddenly saw her as if in soft focus. The light from outside of her window traveled through her gauzy curtains and threw a diffused, bluish glow about the room. It illuminated the highlights of her face and gleamed just on certain strands of her hair, which looked softer than ever as it framed her face.

He smiled warmly at her and she shimmied her body closer, nestled up against him, cheek on his chest, and fell asleep.

Dan stirred awake at the feeling of warm skin exploring his chest. He leaned into the mysterious sensation and his mind melded it with the dream he was having; until he felt something velvety and hot envelope one of his nipples. It simultaneously tickled and stirred his early morning arousal and his eyes jolted open.

He looked down to find Blair snuggled up to him and trailing open-mouthed kisses all along his bare chest. When he shifted she stalled and looked up at him.

"Morning," she smiled, as bright as the morning sun diffused in the room.

He groaned a sleepy groan as he came back to the world of the living. "Do you ever sleep in?" he asked, rubbing his eyes and exhaling contentedly after a good stretch.

"Well if you don't like your wake up call I can just go back to sleep," she said in a sultry, pouty voice and began to turn over, back to him, before he halted her with his arm around her waist. His fingers slipped and slid over a light blue silk negligee.

"No no no no," he said and buried his nose in her hair, holding her close to him and settling even deeper into the plush mattress. "I can't remember the last time I had as good of a wake up call as this," he said and found her lips in order to place a soft but sturdy kiss on them. "Even if it is seven in the morning."

Blair let out a tiny hiccup of a laugh and pinned his left shoulder back against the mattress so that he was on his back. She proceeded to roll over him and continued to plant kisses across his chest.

"Hey," Dan said and she stopped, resting her chin against his breastplate and looking up at him with eyes that gleamed with adoration. "When did you change into this?" he said and thumbed her slip.

Blair's palm began to glide over his stomach and along the sides of his hips. "Oh this?" she said distractedly. "I don't know sometime after you fell asleep. My Nina Ricci was practically screaming at me while I slept in it."

"Well I like it," he said, but his breath hitched in his throat as he did because Blair had resumed her ministrations and was now on a clear path traveling south. Her nose tickled the flesh just under his ribcage and she smiled against him when he hissed. Her hot mouth was delivering wet, open mouthed kisses in a vertical line right down to his navel and he knew she could feel his erection throbbing, having hardened beyond the usual point of morning wood. She dipped the tip of her tongue into his belly button and his hips involuntarily jerked upwards, colliding with the soft, pillowy space just between her breasts.

"Blair," he rasped.

"Now, now," she said. "You don't think reciprocity is good for a relationship?"

"I thought I was reciprocating your previous…" he trailed off and gasped when her tongue began to follow down his happy trail and her hand found the bulge in his boxers and started to massage in soft, circular motions.

His brain had been foggy from sleep and had since transitioned to the fogginess that comes from extreme arousal and the inability to comprehend what Blair Waldorf was about to do to him. She seemed to be surprising him every day and he hoped that she always would.

She tugged at his boxers and dipped a hand in the slit, wrapped her fingers around his cock and released it, hard and aching, into the open air. The slight breeze from her open window sent the curtains gusting and he moaned when it wafted over the tip, cooling it from the fire her hand on his shaft was creating.

He was looking down at her, entranced, fixated, mesmerized by the sight of her tongue running over her teeth before she dipped her head and gave a quick flit over the head.

Dan wanted to keep looking down at her but he couldn't stop his eyes from rolling back into his head. He felt her lips wrap around the tip and slowly, agonizingly move down and envelope his shaft.

He tangled his hands in her hair and couldn't help but urge her to take more of him in, to which she easily conceded—much to his surprise.

"Jesus, Blair," he ground out with clenched teeth, practically ready to burst out of his own skin.

She began to inch her way back up and swirled her tongue around before making the descent back down. He opened his eyes to catch her head bobbing up and down, mouth gloriously wrapped around his cock. It felt incredible, almost too good, and his brain fumbled over a series of silently babbling thoughts. He was so horny. It had been so long. And now this. But not just this. Blair. Blair was doing this. Blair was giving him head in her bed and now he was rhyming and he resigned to just shut his brain off and give in to the basic primal pleasures in life.

And then she stopped. He felt cold air colliding with hot saliva, but she was slinking back up towards him, kissing her way up to his neck, where she latched on and began to suckle.

"Please," he choked out. "Don't stop. Never stop."

"Mmmm," she hummed into his neck. "Want more?"

"Yes," he said in a breathy voice. "God, yes."

Blair simpered and began to slink down his body again when the door from her bathroom clicked open.

"Hey, Blair are you—" Serena's voice invaded the room. Dan and Blair instantly scrambled to appear in more respectable positions. She rolled off of him and to the side and was courteous enough to bring her duvet up with her so he could cover his lower half.

"—Oh!" Serena cried and averted her eyes. "Oh, wow. Okay. This is….new."

"S, I'm sorry—" Blair began.

"It's fine I just have to….go. Somewhere. Else," Serena managed to piece together her words and then shut the bathroom door.

Dan fell even further into the pillows and sighed when he glanced at Blair, whose sultry attitude from a minute before was stricken from her features. She said nothing, and the silence filled the room.

"So I take it there's no chance you want to…uhhh," Dan said, waving a hand like a genie over his genitals.

Blair shot him a withering glare.

* * *

><p>"So," Nate said pointedly, a cup of coffee in his hand and he and Dan walked and talked before the workday started. "Blair told me about your little Serena run in."<p>

"Yeah?" Dan said casually.

"And the uh…unfortunate state she left you in," Nate said, unable to contain a grin.

Dan almost snorted out his coffee. "Hold on. She tells you about that stuff?"

Nate shrugged. "Yeah, I mean. We're good friends. You and I are good friends. I'm your ally, man."

"Okay, but you do realize how weird this is, right?" Dan said.

"Not as weird as Serena almost catching you in the act," Nate teased.

Dan sulked and refused to respond any further. He skipped ahead to cross the street without waiting for Nate.

Nate laughed at him as he jogged up to Dan and once again fell back in step. "Oh, come on. Are you that frustrated? I'm here to help," he said and extended his arms in a welcoming gesture. "Navigating the world of Blair Waldorf is no easy task my friend."

Dan squinted and sipped his coffee with a dark expression. "Oh no. That means she's said something about me, doesn't it? What'd she say?"

Nate slapped Dan's back. "Dude, relax. She hasn't said anything but good things. And she's maybe expressed the same frustration that you two can't…you know…seal the deal."

Dan eyed Nate suspiciously. "So…you're saying what? That she's ready to….you know…"

Nate laughed again, this time likely pointed at Dan's obvious nervousness. Dan knew he was resorted to a bumbling teenage boy when it came to sex with Blair. He almost blushed. It was embarrassing.

"Oh, she's ready," Nate said, a bit too suggestively. "But listen, if you want my advice—"

"Please don't give me sex-with-Blair tips. I'm begging you. It's weird enough that we've slept with two—soon to be three of the same women," Dan said with a slight grimace.

"Hey, all I'm saying is that she's itching for some Humphrey d—"

"Okay, you've sufficiently worn out your welcome," Dan cut him off. "I'm going."

Dan hailed a cab.

"Oh and remember, Blair isn't vanilla in the bedroom," Nate called out after him.

Dan pointed back at him. "We're never speaking about this again," he said and slammed the door shut on Nate's amused smile.

* * *

><p>Dan had his cab book it straight to the loft, where he was fully prepared to grab his condoms, change his shirt and high tail is to Blair's and take her right then and there. But he encountered a slight hiccup when he swung open his bedroom door in a fury and found her jolting up from his nightstand, a lit match in her hand. She had been lighting candles around his room.<p>

"Oh, thank God," he said and rushed to her, capturing her lips in a desperate kiss that was filled with the outpouring of all of his need and desire.

Blair didn't waste any time and started pulling and tugging on his clothes until he was shirtless and being pushed backwards onto his bed. She was instantly on him straddling his hips and pulling her dress up and over her head, revealing a white lace bra and matching panties. Dan sat up to get to her, kissing her feverishly along her jaw, fondling her breasts through the material of her bra. They fit perfectly in his palms.

"I didn't want to wait anymore," she said through a gasp. "I just want you."

"Good," he said and flipped them over, so that she was on her back and he nestled in between her legs. He surged forward and his already rock hard bulge ground against Blair's panties and she moaned into their kiss, making it even more searing.

Her hand snuck down between them and began to work on his belt when his door opened—

"Dan, how about some squash today—" Rufus was saying. "Oh!" He quickly shut the door. "Sorry, son," he said from the other side.

And once again the mood was ruined.

Dan could have sworn the universe was conspiring against him to prevent his having sex with Blair. He even wondered if Chuck Bass had the omniscient power to impose a fatwa on her just by his own will.

They tried to do it everywhere imaginable and were thwarted every single time. Lily and Rufus caught them again—that time on the couch after a romantic takeout dinner and Blair's dress around her waist.

Serena walked into the bathroom to find Blair hoisted up on the sink and her legs wrapped around his waist. That happened twice actually. And another time she found them whirling around, limbs entangled and lips locked as they barreled through the door and almost ran right into her. They then resolved to stick to her bed, but the maid who wasn't Dorota seemed to have no intention of knocking and Blair consequently forbid them from attempting at her place anymore.

They came so close once—to the point where he had her nearly naked, wet and ready in his bed—but when he reached for the condoms by his nightstand he fumbled and smacked his head on its edge. It turned out they had been across the room on top of the dresser anyway.

Blair nursed the small bump on his forehead and all the while he couldn't help but wish she'd nurse the aching bulge in his pants. Dan was starting to think suffering from blue balls was his new way of existence.

"We need a kit," Blair said one day. She was pacing back and forth in her living room while Dan reclined on the chaise, wallowing in the misery of their predicament.

"Like a sex kit?" he asked.

"Yes, exactly!" she cried and he rolled his eyes and scoffed. "I'm serious. Right now it seems the only way is to try and find any window of opportunity available to us, no matter how small that window may be. So we need to be efficient. Candles, mood setters etc."

"Fine with me," he said succinctly. At this point he would go along with any scheme she could come up with.

"Honestly why doesn't anyone leave the house for any reasonable length of time anymore?" she said and flapped her arms at her sides in exasperation. Dan shrugged.

To take their minds off of how badly they wanted to rip each other's clothes off, Dan finally took Blair on the date he had planned from the beginning. He picked her up in the afternoon and couldn't help but stare at her white blouse, which boasted billowy ruffles down the front, but also a deep plunging neckline that only came together right above her navel and was held together by criss-crossed string across her breasts. A black skirt hit just above her knees and when she walked ahead of him he caught some black lace lining peeping out from the hem. Dan had to will himself to look away in order to remain a gentlemen.

He took her to the Fritz Collection on the Upper East Side to see the Degas pieces.

"You loathe Degas," she said incredulously when they walked in.

"Yeah but last year we went to the Beuys and missed the Degas at the Morgan," Dan said and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "And I wanted to make it up to you," he whispered in her ear.

The corners of her mouth curved up into a sly smile and her hands rested atop of his at her stomach. "Well come on then. Maybe you'll finally learn a little something about art," she said and began to drag him down the corridor.

They spent the afternoon wandering through the various rooms, adorned with Victorian furniture and ornate décor. Every wall was covered in artwork and Blair insisted on spending time looking at and analyzing each piece. She lectured him about Degas' history, background, his brush strokes and the theory and philosophy behind his work.

Dan found it incredibly hot and had trouble focusing, but knew he had to in order to remain in her good graces. Still, it didn't stop him from running a delicate hand along her figure during one of her tutorials. And it certainly didn't stop him from breathing hot air onto her ear as he cozied up to her from behind, his arms draped over her shoulders and the curve of her ass nestled against his groin.

"Dan, what are you doing?" she asked.

"I find knowledge sexy. Sue me," he murmured and pulled her tighter. "Also you should know your top really isn't helping."

Blair swayed them from side to side. "Oh, but surely you can handle a little bare skin," she said and her voice sounded as if emitted through a sly smile.

"Try being celibate for a year a half and get back to me," he parried, thinking nothing of it until she whipped around to face him. "What?"

"Are you kidding?" she whispered with a furious hush as an old couple walked passed their room.

"No," he said defensively. "Why? Does it matter?"

Blair darted her eyes around the room. "Of course it matters. How, Humphrey? _How?"_

Dan's lips pursed into a bemused expression as he sighed, not liking that he had to explain himself. "Well it wasn't for lack of trying, but Charlie—or fake Charlie—decided to jump the crazy wagon right at the _very_ best moment," he said in a whisper yell of sorts. "And then _you _happened and believe it or not you took up a lot of my time and I—"

He was cut off by a finger to his lips. She waited for him to deflate, and ran the soft padding of her finger along his lips.

"Well then, Mr. Humphrey," she whispered, leaning in close. "Let's not put any more time on that celibacy clock."

They found the nearest bathroom, which was a small powder room with brass fixtures and textured brocade wallpaper that covered every wall from ceiling to floor. Blair locked the door behind them and barely turned around before Dan lifted her up off her feet and settled her on the granite sink counter. Her hands flew straight to his belt and undid it with powerful finesse. He kissed her hungrily before he forced himself to pull away.

"Wait wait wait," he said.

"What? What's wrong?" she asked.

"I don't have a condom with me," he said sullenly and was confused when she broke out into a knowing smile. Blair felt around for her purse and began to rummage through it with one hand, while the other managed to unzip his pants and release his cock from his boxers.

After a moment she pulled out a condom and waved it in between them. "You didn't think I'd be unprepared for a spontaneous rendezvous like this did you?" she said saccharinely.

"You're incredible," he said.

"I know," she piped before he crashed his lips into hers again. She whimpered at his insistence but was already fast at work ripping off the casing to the condom and rolling it onto his protruding member. His hands swept over her breasts but he wasn't satisfied and soon he found the zipper on the back of her blouse and began to yank it down. It wasn't long after she started working on the buttons of his shirt that she froze, and Dan along with her, after having heard a dreadful ripping sound.

Blair pulled away from him and looked at him with wide, fearful eyes.

"Crap," Dan said and hung his head.

Blair squeezed her eyes shut. "Just…look in the mirror behind me and tell me how bad it is."

Dan peeked around her and saw that the zipper had indeed split and eaten a large wad of fabric, which was now tangled and ensnared in the metal. He sighed and brought his attention back to her, shook his head. Her shoulders fell and a sullen, sunken expression washed over her face, her luscious lips twisted downward.

"I'm sorry," he said and cupped her face. "Come on. I'll buy you a new blouse. And then dinner."

She pouted at him, but her expression read not only as disappointment, but as regret that she couldn't give him what he wanted. And that she knew he thought it was a silly reason to stop. He wanted to reassure her that he understood, that he accepted her wacky priorities and that of course it made sense that a ripped blouse would kill the mood for Blair. He just got it; he got _her. _

But at the end of the day, it seemed the universe would stop at nothing to prevent them from fucking. Dan winced as he tucked his erection into the elastic band of his boxers and readied himself to greet society once again. He gripped her hand and gave a squeeze as he led her out of the bathroom.

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><p><em>So...next up...SEX? Read and Review pretty pretty princess please!<em>


	6. Chapter 6

_Alright guys, here it is! The apex, the climax...the finish. ;) I feel kind of dirty writing three sex scenes in one chapter, but hey - the show went there not me! I hope I did this glorious episode justice and got the mood and drunkenness right. And I hope I mixed it up a bit for you all too! So, enough about me, on to the smut! But also one more thing about me - pleeeease pretty please review. Tell me you love me, tell me you hate me, comment on the story, or just say hi. If you review every week or you've never reviewed, I'd love to hear from you now that it's over. xoxo Air_

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><p>Drinks: 0<p>

Dan thought that the longer they waited, or were thwarted, the better the sex would be when it finally happened. It wasn't.

He wanted to scrub the memory from his brain but it wouldn't go. It was replaying over and over as he tapped his foot impatiently in the cab to the Spectator.

Dan didn't know how long he'd been imagining sex with Blair in his head, but she'd been the only one he pictured for a good while now and he wanted the reality to be earth shattering—mind blowingly incredible. He wanted her to be better than fantasy Blair because she was real, and the real thing was always better.

Instead, the entire process was like puppets enacting mechanical moves that you're supposed to do during sex. He squeezed his eyes tight, trying to stop the feel of his wooden kisses along her neck, the sound of the creaking headboard invading his ears, the sight of her face—her thoughts somewhere far away.

How did it happen? They'd been so good at everything that wasn't sex, but the second they both knew what they were building up to, they froze. Well, he thought he tried—maybe she froze.

Nate said Blair wasn't vanilla, but vanilla was exactly what happened in that hotel room. They didn't even take their clothes off all the way. They did it under the covers. Her feet remained firmly planted on the mattress, bent at the knee and parted just enough so that he could nestle in between. And then from there on out it was just staccato thrusting and—

"Right here is fine," Dan blurted out to the driver and rushed out.

Drinks: 5

Blair was certainly intent on proving to him how good she was. This wasn't passive, vanilla Blair any longer. This was ripping his clothes off in an elevator Blair. Daring to pull the stop button when who knows might be trying to come and go Blair. This was Blair kissing and clawing at his chest and shoving her tongue down his throat.

And this was no longer a classic case of the Dan Humphrey Overthink. He had no intention of being hyperverbal or thinking about anything really—except seeing her dress pool around her feet and rejoicing internally at the fact that her lace patterned stockings were elastic thigh highs.

Blair was positively manhandling him. One hand gripped the curls at the nape of the neck and the other nestled into the groove of his neck and he was pinned in place as she kissed him thoroughly. Dan shimmied his shirt off and her nails teased down his chest, over his torso and along his happy trail until his already unzipped pants were invaded and she gripped his cock and pulled it free. As she pumped lightly, back and forth, he groaned into her mouth and fumbled to peel her underwear off and down her legs. Once he allowed himself to graze in between her lips and found her already soaking, he was ready to lift her up and get going.

When he did so she emitted another happily surprised cry, its high-pitched tone sending shivers through him and hardening his dick even more. He was about to guide himself to her center, but she beat him to it, gripping him and leading him right there.

And he pushed himself in, sending her back sliding up the elevator wall and causing her legs to tense and curl around his waist.

Dan could barely remember how to work his limbs. All he could feel was the sensation of being inside a writhing, moaning, practically purring Blair, and the beautiful way that alcohol numbed the brain and allowed him to feel every sensation for what it was worth. And beginning to pump in and out of her was—he swore—the single greatest sensation he'd ever felt. It was like Shangrila and Nirvana and Heaven and the delicious heat from Hell all in one.

He wanted to tell her, he wanted to tell her how hot she was. How tight and wet and sexy and perfect she was. But he refused to ruin this by opening his mouth and he resigned to finding her lips again and lett his moan reverberate through her and send her the message.

She must have been on the same page, as she matched his sign of appreciation by releasing a little yelp with each of his thrusts. At this encouragement he increased his pace, broke from her lips and pressed his thumbs deep into her hips.

Blair, deprived of his lips as Dan was hard at work, manage to find his earlobe and scrape it between her teeth. She then nibbled down the side of his neck and latched onto his throat, suckling hard and releasing her moans into him. They vibrated through his body and he felt the pressure building within him. But he knew he had as much to prove as she did, and he slid his left hand in between them and blindly searched for her clit. When he found it he held the nub between two fingers and rubbed.

Blair let out a strangled scream before she began to chant _yes yes yes_ over and over into his ear. The fact that she had no intention of muffling her cries and wasn't even attempting to suppress her volume only made Dan rub faster.

She threw her head against the wall now, her eyes shut and her back arched. She gripped his hair hard and kept him flush to her.

"Tell me when you're close," he managed to choke out, nose buried in her hair behind her ear.

"Oh God," she cried. "Don't stop. Don't stop," was all she could say.

He smiled into her neck as he continued and soon felt her hand pull his hair harder, her legs stiffen and tighten around him, and the walls of her pussy clench and unclench around his cock. Dan thrust faster, harder, even as she began to shake around him, crying out as she came. The shuddering of her inner muscles was just the thing to send him over the edge with her and he thrust once more inside of her, all the way to the hilt, and came. Hard.

They relaxed against each other and he couldn't tell who was holding up whom. Their heavy yet satiated breathing swirled around the elevator. Once he caught his breath he dipped down to where Blair's chin was resting against his shoulder and nuzzled against her, urging her to look up at him, and delivered several short, lovely kisses upon her swollen lips. She smiled through them and they both let out a breathy laugh.

"Help me find my underwear," she said. "I think you threw them somewhere far."

"We're in like an….eight by eight foot box. I think our chances are high," he said and began to whirl around in search of the offensive garment. The movement was not forgiving on his head, and he teetered to one side, but balanced himself in time to scoop them up from the opposite corner of the elevator. He turned around and pouted at the sight of her dress once again on her frame and held them out to her, dangling on one finger.

She yanked them from him with a clipped "Thank you very much," and began to step into them. Dan found his shirt and struggled with the buttons. He was intent on getting them through the ridiculously tiny slits when Blair was suddenly in front of him, swatting his hands away. "Here. Let me," she said in a bossy voice.

She was just as sloppy as he was, and took a while to get them right, but she was doing a better job at it than he was capable of at the moment. He gazed at her as she focused on the task at hand, biting her lip and furrowing her brow as if she were trying to solve world hunger.

"Hey," he said and swayed forward. "I don't want really want to go up there and deal with all of those…people."

Blair's eyes lit up. "Oh, thank God," she said and abandoned the top few buttons. She grabbed her coat from the floor and turned the elevator back on, pressing the ground level button over and over again, just so it got the message.

"Get your coat, let's go," she said as the doors opened to the lobby and they rushed out with a burst of adrenaline to hail a cab.

Drinks: 7

They found a booth with low lighting and settled in. Blair hooked her arms through his and rested her chin on his shoulder as he opened the menu.

"Mmm," she sighed. "I don't know anything about whiskey so you choose."

"My pleasure," he said in an affected, snooty voice and turned the page.

"Choose wisely though," she sing-songed in his ear just as she began to palm the bulge in his pants underneath the table.

Dan lurched forward and his eyes widened and darted to the side. "Blair." She looked up to find their waiter standing before them and smiled at him. But she didn't break away, and continued to circle her palm over his pants.

"Go ahead. Order," she urged.

He did. Two Japanese whiskeys and—he asked if she was hungry. _Ravenous_ she said with a giggle. The waiter suggested Croque Monsieurs to be paired with the whiskey, to which Blair scrunched her nose, but was drunk enough to acquiesce instead of argue.

"Better make them doubles," Blair said as the waiter turned to leave.

When he was gone Dan turned to her and dipped his lips close to her ear. "You're positively salacious, Waldorf."

"Ohhh and he still uses five dollar words when inebriated," she cooed. His pants grew tighter as his erection swelled under her touch.

"You're one to talk," he said and meant it to be sarcastic, but instead it came out garbled and breathy. Dan was ready to pull Blair onto his lap and ravish her right there in the booth when their drinks arrived. He sighed with relief and reached for his glass when Blair swatted his hand away.

"Ah ah ah," she said and lifted the glass to his lips, but he broke out into a fit of laughter, bringing her along with.

"What are you…" he began.

"Just play along, Humphrey," she said, still wearing her smile and brought the glass to his lips again, which he readily accepted this time. She tilted the lip and sent the liquid burning deliciously down his throat. It was ridiculous and sensual all at once.

When the glass hit the table with a hollow thud she slid her hand away from his now rock hard erection. "I'm going to scope out the ladies room. Meet me there in exactly sixty seconds. And be prompt!" She scooted out of the booth, but pivoted back to him and lifted a finger to offer an addendum. "Unless I'm back in thirty due to sanitary reasons."

"Naturally," he said with a nod.

"Naturally," she repeated, grabbed her own drink from the table and downed it in one fell swoop, and walked away.

In exactly sixty seconds he was twisting the handle to the women's bathroom, and was bombarded with sudden flashes of the last time he entered a girls bathroom looking for Blair—

And then she was on him, pulling on his arm and reaching around him to click the door locked. It took him a moment to take in that the restroom was a single; with low lighting, a marble sink counter and textured wallpaper.

"Hello and welcome to our very own Brooklyn pied-de-terre," Blair said with a drunken smile and flung her arms around his neck, inviting him to kiss her.

"Mmmm well the lighting is nice but the décor will have to be redone entirely," he said, grazing his nose over hers before dipping down to oblige her.

"My thoughts exactly!" she said, breaking the kiss and swatting his arm playfully.

Dan was feeling warm, the whiskey having effectively slapped him on the back, and broke out into a mischievous grin. "Ready?"

"Of course," she said.

"Okay. One. Two—"

"Why are you counting?" she asked, confusion washing over her face in the most attractively adorable way possible, before he hoisted her up and swiftly relocated her to the marble sink counter.

"Oh!" she yelped.

"Three," he said and immediately swept in to kiss her, his hand tangled in her already mussed updo and the other reaching for her zipper once again.

They were drunker than before and sloppier. Fumbling with zippers and garment constraints, growing more impatient and the alcohol in their blood burning through them and raising their body temperatures to the point where only the friction of their skin on skin and their outpouring of energy could release them from the heat.

Blair's dress pooled at her waist, Dan's pants halfway down his legs. He knelt down to strip off her underwear and steadied himself for a moment, finding it hard to figure out the perfect way to maneuver their impending copulation operation. Blair was eager and somehow, someway, already wet—her legs splayed open on the cold marble.

Finally it clicked and Dan snaked a firm hand around the back of her neck and his other arm under her knee and lifted it up in the air and back.

"Ah!" she yelped when locked firmly in place.

Her tiny hands once again led his cock to her throbbing entrance, but this time he hesitated, teasing the tip along her folds and making her moan in anticipation. Blair wiggled and tried to shift down upon him, but his grip on her was steady.

"Say please," Dan said, matching her own sing-songy tone of voice she used so often on him.

Blair scoffed, but allowed a smile to break free at his audacity before obliging. "Please," she said playfully and he thrust his hips forward and entered her swiftly, causing her to cry out. The angle was perfect, and Dan found himself buried inside of her to the very hilt. When he pulled out only to drive back in, Blair cried out again…and again and again. Dan felt that he was hitting a particularly sensitive spot with the tip of his cock every time he slammed into her and it seemed to be unraveling her.

She was incoherent in a matter of seconds, mewing "Oh God," over and over. He brought his forehead to hers and concentrated on eliciting the sweet sound of her throttled voice with each forward thrust.

But he soon wanted more, needed more. He applied pressure to where he gripped her at the back of her neck. "Kiss me," he urged and she tilted her chin up, but her mouth was open and she was panting. He captured her lips with his and teased them in between her moans, nibbling softly.

When she came she did so without warning, bit down hard on his bottom lip and shook with a tremor that wracked through her entire body. The sting in his lip excited him, but he stopped his movements though he wasn't finished yet. He hadn't expected Blair to come so suddenly, so violently and quickly—and he was in the unfortunate state of inebriation that kept his cock hard and slightly numb (though not so unfortunate as whiskey dick, he had to admit).

"Keep going," she whispered, a tremble in her voice. Dan began to rock back and forth once more, and she shook with every movement inside of her. Her inner walls were vibrating with the after shocks of her orgasm and most likely internally screaming at the continued invasion as he pumped his cock in and out, refusing to let her come down from her high. Dan resolved to move fast, and tightened his grip on her leg and the back of her head. She lowered her mouth to the crook of his shoulder and bit down on his flesh shaking all the while as he fucked her.

Finally he felt a tightening in his balls and the tremors from her body seeping and absorbing into his cock and he came with a grunt of her name and slumped against her. He lifted his head from her shoulder when she whimpered, and he saw the slight sheen that had broken out across her forehead and the bright pink flush on her cheeks.

"Come on," he said softly. "Our food should be ready by now. And by the looks of it I dare say you need another drink."

Blair dissolved into laughter as he helped her off of the marble sink countertop.

Drinks: 9

Dan was wasted. Blair was wasted. They were so drunk that their go to defenses had been stripped from their personalities. He was no longer unsure of himself, getting hung up on details in his head. He was taking action, making decisions. Like fucking Blair in an alleyway. And she was no longer contrary and argumentative. She was adventurous, willing.

"You're dirty," she hummed into his lips as he stumbled backwards, drawing her further into seclusion.

"Mmm," he hummed back. "You have no idea."

His back finally hit a brick wall and their coats instantly flew off. His skin was burning from alcohol and desire and he itched to feel hers again as well. He collided with her and spun them around, pushing her up against the wall and delivering hot, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw and neckline as he crouched down to once again discard her panties.

"I mean at this point these are pretty pointless don't you think?" he said, rhetorically of course.

"Absolutely. Get them out of my sight," she said playfully.

He tucked them in his back pocket and returned his hands to duck under her dress and roam over her figure. "Turn around," he whispered softly in her ear.

She gasped slightly at the suggestion and hesitated before slowly rotating around so that her back was to him. Dan reached out and pulled down her zipper once again, though this time he inched along. Blair's breathing quickened and hitched in her throat when he slipped her sleeves over her shoulders and exposed her to the cold night air. He leaned forward, pressing his erection into the curve of her ass and placed light kisses on the nape of her neck and along her back. Her breath hitched in her throat, and he reveled in the fact that her response to his touch was heightened by the unpredictability he had introduced in this new position.

He felt a wave of confidence wash over him. Perhaps false confidence, manufactured by the mixture of alcohol and good sex, but he felt invincible and suddenly very vocal.

"Part your legs," he commanded and as she did he unzipped his pants. He released his cock into the crisp air and gasped himself, but gathered his wits about him and gently guided his hand along her spine to urge her to bend over slightly. She used the brick wall for support and placed both hands against it and he gripped her hips and drew her behind towards him just enough so he could position himself to enter her from behind. When he did he moved slowly, as she had to adjust to take him all the way in. He didn't move for a long while, even when she whimpered. He leaned forward, flush against her and kissed her shoulder blade before he began to pump—ever so sensuously—within her.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered in her ear. "I've wanted you for so long."

"Dan," Blair whimpered. "I want you."

He snaked his arms around her front and along her torso and held her to him. He found the underwire of her bra, plunged his fingers underneath and covered her breasts with his hands.

"Faster, please," she choked out and though he wanted to tease her, he was not in a mental state to deny her anything or pretend to retain any semblance of self control. He began to fuck her harder and faster just as she wished.

"You feel so good," he continued whispering in her ear. He noticed when he did her muscles would squeeze around him, a sensation he loved for selfish reasons and because of what his words were doing to her. "You're so tight," he continued.

Blair let out a strangled moan and reached an arm around and grabbed a fistful of his hair. "Mmm," she moaned. "Now would be a good time to continue being…" gasp "—hyperverbal," she said.

"That," he said and slithered one of his hands from her breast, down along her stomach and found her clit. "—is something I can do," he said and began to rub. "Like that?"

"Yes!" Blair cried out.

"How much?" His breath was hot and humid against her ear and he began to feel the tingling sensation one gets when the body heats up amidst a cold atmosphere. He felt warmth from the inside out and it was radiating off of them both.

"Love it," she said. "Oh, God. Fuck me, Dan," she said and he was hit with an instant dizziness. He lost all command of his mind and body hearing Blair utter those three words that he instantly came, thrusting hard one, two, three times and with each he emptied his burning hot liquid inside her.

Dan slid out of her and gently spun her around to face him. It was his turn to pant heavily as she looked upon him with a winsome pout. "Daaan," she whined and slumped back against the wall.

Her bottom lip was so full and so protruded that he had to grab it between his lips, and he kissed her with gratification and reveled in her taste. When he drew back she returned to her pout, but he parried with a roguish smirk before dropping to his knees. He hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and shoved her dress further up her waist.

"Oh!" she cried in surprise when his tongue darted out to graze her clit.

He looked up at her and found her eyes gleaming in the darkness. "One day I swear to god I'm going to get all of your clothes off, Waldorf," he said before he dipped his head back down and proceeded to give her her third orgasm of the night against a brick wall. In an alley. In Brooklyn.

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><p><em>I'm terrified - how did I do? <em>


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